A Word in the Breeze

Flicker (Imagine Dragons II)

When Corrie opened his eyes, he knew something was wrong.

Have you ever had a gut feeling that something was unfamiliar? This was like that, except even his gut felt unfamiliar.

. . . His skin was unfamiliar. The shadow behind his eyes where his consciousness lived, even that unearthly shadow felt unfamiliar. . .

He squirmed in his new form uncomfortably.

His eyes were higher than he remembered. Do treetops normally brush your nose?

He realised he was laying on his back. Grunting, he pushed himself up, and stared.

His hands. . . His stomach. . . He was –

"NAAAAAAWWRRRR!!"

Fire reared out of his mouth, and he coughed and spluttered. His breath tasted like scalding oil, but he. . . He liked it! Woosh! Freow! He could make the grass glow and flicker!

Flicker! That's a nice name. . .

No. Wait, he thought. I'm not a. . . a dragon! I'm Corrie. I'm supposed to be human. . .

He looked around him with his innocent grey eyes, reflecting the human he once was.

They wouldn't look human for long.

Looking down, he spotted someone familiar, about the size of his. . . His claws. His red scaled claws.

Roscoe.

Argh! That wizard! That wizard Razzer had thrown a spell at him, and Roscoe probably couldn't remember anything anymore! Just swell.

What was he to do?

He'd have to find the wizard of course. Make him turn them back! Or.  . . There was the potionmaster he'd pointed out. Would he perhaps help him out, punish the student wizard responsible for this mess?

Yes, he thought. Adults can be trusted to help out.

Glancing briefly downwards, he saw Roscoe holding his head and spinning around, confused no doubt. And then. . . Is that another human I smell? Yummmmmmmm!

~

Roscoe was scolding himself over and over again.

How could I? Who did this? Why–? And other similar questions shrieked in his head, numbing him, deafening him. He couldn't control the situation when he didn't know what the situation was. And how could he be sure that dragon was Corrie anyway!?

But he did know, somehow. It was the eyes that gave it away, and perhaps the beating heart, the blood which bound them and drew them together as brothers. He is my little brother. Or he was.

Panic gripped him, made him senseless, made him walk in circles as the majestic scarlet beast watched him silently.

I have to protect him, he thought fiercely. I have to protect Corrie at all cost!

But then the shadow changed. A long, scaled neck changed angle, and pointed towards a patch of the woods, and Roscoe heard the softest of footsteps.